The Greek/Roman gods made their existence known to S.H.I.E.L.D. and picked two champions and sent those heroes to the agency thus making a bridge between the two sides.
Who are the two heroes that were picked? And how did director Nick Fury react wh...
I was utterly bored. It was shortly after Budapest and I begged Nick to have a week off. With a bit of siren singing and begging, I got my own apartment in New York. It's in the Upper East Side, on Eighty-Second Street, in the Second Avenue. It's a five-story brick row house with rusty air-conditioner sagging from the window. That's my kind of thing. Two bedrooms, two toilets, one kitchen, and a living room. I sleep in one room and use the other bedroom as a gym. I've got a punching bag, a bar-fix with gymnastic rings and a hidden compartment filled with weapons, both mortal and demigod. I would've gotten a treadmill but I would prefer running in the streets than running in a confined room.
It's been three days and I still got about four days left from my vacation. The first day I worked out, then watched The Pirates of the Caribbean marathon movies. The next day I worked out, read a book then gone out shopping. I know, but I was bored. I only bought a T-shirt and a newer black leather jacket since the old one has gone to waste. The third day I worked out, and done my hair into a fishtail braid circlet around my head. My silver streak loose.
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I was reading a book (read: Ender's Game) thinking about Annabeth in Boston when the buzzer rang.
"Yes?" I answered, maybe it was Nat or Reyna...
"Hello" a garbled voice answered, "This is Apollo. The god Apollo. Is it you Percy?"
Now I was ready to kill him or myself. Why in the name of Tartarus would he come here! I wanted to ignore him and return to my book but he could always appear here. That only made me madder, but I controlled my emotions, put on an emotionless mask letting only a spark of annoyance, hung up and pressed the buzzer to open the front door. To make it a bit dramatic.
I waited about 15 seconds, felt with the water molecules in the air and found what I was looking for, But he wasn't alone. Meh, who cares.
I swung open the apartment door and said: "Why?"
Of all the things that I expected, I did not expect that. He looked about sixteen, my age, with medium-length, dark and curly hair. His eyes were a sky-blue. His face was pleasing enough in a dorkish way, but marred it was marred by a swollen eggplant-colored nose, which was dripping a mustache of blood down his upper lip. And he has acne. The almighty god Apollo had acne. Oh that's great blackmailing stuff!
His companion was a twelve-year-old girl, with square glasses and short black hair with dark eyes and she was dressed like a street-light. Bright red sneakers, yellow tight leggings and a green tank top. She inched back into the hallway, hiding behind the sun god.
"Percy Jackson, my blessings upon you! I am in need of assistance." Yep, definitely Apollo.
My eyes darted once more from him to the little girl.
"Who's your friend?" I asked curiously.
"This is Meg McCaffrey", he said, "a demigod who must be taken to Camp Half-Blood. She rescued me from street thugs."
I raised an eyebrow
"Rescued..." I mused, "you mean the 'beat-up teenager' look isn't just a disguise? Dude, what happened to you?"
"I may have mentioned the street thugs". Meg was trying not to laugh.
"But you're a god." I insisted.
"About that... I was a god." At that I blinked. What happened?
"Was?"
"Also" he added cheerfully, "I'm fairly certain we're being followed by malicious spirits". I restrained myself from punching his already- broken nose. I calmed myself and sighed.
